


Match

by Finduilas



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bartender Stiles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura drags Derek along to a singles meeting. Derek is more interested in hanging out at the bar though. Enter bartender Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Match

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Tumblr prompt. 
> 
> aubsha-obrien inquired:
> 
>  
> 
> _hey, are you taking prompts? if yes cause i was thinking maybe laura goes to those matchdotcom meetings/gaterings where they meet singles and is too scared to go so derek reluctantly agrees to go with her cause she's too scared to go on her own and stiles goes too and flirts with derek thinking he's there too meet someone._

“I can’t believe you’re still dragging your feet about this,” Laura sighs as they enter the room and Derek almost gags at the set-up of the “fun, flirty, relaxed” atmosphere.

“I can’t believe you  _blackmailed_ me into coming here with you,” Derek grumbles, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.

“You’re here to support me,” Laura says, not even looking at Derek as she’s already scoping out the single men in the room, “It’s a nice, brotherly gesture.”

“Brotherly gestures and blackmail don’t go well together, Laura,” Derek says, all but rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” Laura says, her tone conveying absolutely no guilt for dragging Derek along to this matchmaking meeting. “You’d think maybe a little gratitude would be in order, seeing as you’re a single too.”

“But I’m not looking,” Derek says for what feels like the millionth time. And once again, he is answered by Laura’s scoff. “Besides,” Derek adds, “Every single person here is straight.”

“And you swing both ways, so that’s at least  _half_ the singles here that might be interested in you,” Laura says, whooshing her hair over his shoulder. “Besides, don’t even give me that crap. How many times have I tried to get you interested in LGBT meetings? You always shoot me down.”

“Whatever…” Derek sighs, and he quickly takes his refuge at the bar while Laura starts to mingle, a broad smile plastered on her face.

He taps his fingers on the bar absentmindedly as he looks around the room full of people wearing their best clothes and most interested expression and that are laughing way too excitedly at the other’s jokes.

“Rum ‘n coke,” Derek says as he sees the bartender appear at the other side of the bar, out of the corner of his eye.

“Wow, you sure don’t look like you want to be here at all,” the bartender says with a humorous edge to his voice, and it makes Derek turn around and regard him.

“Blink once if you’re held here against your will,” the young guy says with a wink, the corners of his mouth tugging up, “My dad’s a cop, I can get you help.”

He starts pouring Derek’s order though, for which Derek is eternally grateful.

“It might be a bit mean to have my own sister arrested for kidnapping,” Derek says, put upon.

“I don’t know,” the guy answers, big amber eyes smiling at him as he hands over Derek’s drink, “Depends on the methods she used to get you here, I’d say.”

“Blackmail,” Derek says, before chugging down half his drink in one go.

“Ouch,” the guy mock-winces, leaning his elbows on the counter, displaying impressive forearms. Long lashes fall over liquid eyes as he blinks a few times, one of the multiple moles scattered over his face falling just in the crease of his cheeks as he smiles. He’s… quite gorgeous, if Derek is honest with himself.

“Tell me about it,” Derek says, shaking his head slightly as he glances back over to the crowd, seeing if he can catch Laura.

“Now, I can’t help but wonder what she could possibly have on you,” the bartender says, scratching the barely there stubble on his chin.

Derek quirks an eyebrow at him. “And you think I’ll just let you in on that?” And the tone of Derek’s voice is flirty without him even realizing it. Is he - ? Is he really going to try flirting with this bartender?

“I mean, come on, man, I’m a total stranger,” the bartender says, shrugging even though he misses the indifference he’s clearly going for. “Where’s the harm in sharing a secret with me? It’ll just be one of those things on the long list of what people spill to the bartender when they’re a little bit tipsy.”

“I’m not tipsy yet though,” Derek says, holding up his glass for a second before taking another sip.

“I’m a source of booze, man,” the guy smiles, and  _fuck_ , that’s a  _nice_  smile he’s got.

“Nice try,” Derek says, and he catches himself in a wink. He would be embarrassed if the bartender didn’t seem to like it though.

“Well, no point is us being strangers anymore then,” the guy says, and he sticks out his hand at Derek as he introduces himself, “Stiles.”

Derek looks at the hand for a second, before reaching to shake it, and he answers, “Derek.”

“Nice to meet you, Derek,” Stiles says, and when he’s being called on by someone at the other end of the bar, Stiles sneaks a glance at Derek over his shoulder before paying attention at his costumer.

Derek catches himself on a lingering stare as a young lady suddenly slides in on the stool next to Derek’s, and greets him with a perky, “Hi.”

Derek can’t help it when his face falls a bit, but he manages to get out a polite “Hello”.

“I don’t see you mingling a lot,” the woman says, a little coy.

She’s pretty and seems nice, but Derek can’t stop himself from glancing over at the other end of the bar again, where Stiles is serving a few people their drinks now.

“It wasn’t really my idea to come to this thing in the first place,” Derek says, honestly.

“Oh?” she asks, tilting her head, “Not really interested in meeting anyone then?”

He feels kind of bad - who knows how easy or difficult it is for this nice lady to come up to a stranger to try her chance? - but there’s really no use in Derek stringing her along either, so he settles for a curt, “No, not really.”

He can see the woman’s face fall for a second, before she blinks a few times and smiles again. She hops off the stool with a shrug. “I won’t bother you any longer then,” she says, and she disappears into the crowd again.

“Wow, that was harsh.” Stiles’ voice is right next to him again, and when Derek turns towards him, he’s leaning over the bar again, edging towards Derek.

“Blame my sister,” Derek says, and he looks back over at the room and is relieved to see the woman already talking to someone else, who - luckily - seems more interested in her than Derek.

“So are you only indulging me because I bring the booze?” Stiles asks, filling up Derek’s drink again, “Because I promise I won’t be any less professional if you tell me to fuck off.”

“No, I - ” Derek says, and he moves his glass brusquely in a reflex, causing Stiles to spill coke all over the bar - and Derek’s shirt.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” Stiles says, suddenly shaky, as he grabs a towel and starts dabbing at Derek’s shirt. “I should know better. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He’s leaning over the bar, wiping the towel over Derek’s shirt frantically while muttering, “What am I even doing? Your sister got you here to meet a girl. God, I’m so so - ”

“Stiles!” Derek says, grabbing Stiles’ hand to still it against his shirt. “If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m gonna stick this coke-soaked towel in your face, alright?”

“I’m s - ” Stiles shuts his jaw with an audible click, as he just stares at Derek, bewildered.

Derek just grins as he snatches the towel from Stiles, and wipes away the spilled liquid on the counter.

“I wasn’t indulging you, okay?” Derek says, handing the towel back to Stiles now that everything is clean again - well, except for the stain on his shirt.

Stiles just nods, like he’s not trusting his own voice yet.

“In fact…” Derek says, feeling a little bit bolder now that he’s sure he hasn’t misread Stiles’ attention to him. “I was kinda hoping I would be able to tell my sister that maybe I got a date out of this after all…?”

Stiles’ eyes widen, that smile appearing on his face again, before he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, then asks, “Just so we’re clear here, when you say a date, you do mean with - ?”

“Yes, with you, you idiot!” Derek says, and he can’t help but chuckle.

“Now see, we haven’t even exchanged phone numbers yet and you’re already calling me names,” Stiles says, tssk-ing at Derek.

“Well,” Derek says, reaching over the bar to pry out the pen that’s sticking out of Stiles’ shirt pocket, “You can always  _not_  call me.” He reaches for Stiles’ arm and starts writing out his phone number over the underside of his forearm, trying not to linger too much on the vein popping up or the moles dotting the surprisingly soft skin.

“Yeah…” Stiles says, smirking as he looks down at the numbers on his arm. “I guess I could always do that…”

But with the way Stiles is looking back at him, Derek is pretty sure he won’t have to wait long for that phone call.


End file.
